


It was meant to be once

by Happy_little_pill



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Daminette December 2020, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Hint of future relationship - Freeform, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Swordfighting, Wanderlust, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_little_pill/pseuds/Happy_little_pill
Summary: There was a certain peacefulness that came with the knowledge that no matter how she fucked up in practice, there was no world ending catastrophe waiting to fall. All the adrenaline went into her rapid movements, her practice sword an extension of her arm. Her mind was oh so clear. Little by little she was learning to avoid telegraphing her own moves, making her sword faster, deadlier. She could even sometimes read his following move.It felt like dancing.Daminette Day 2: Swordfighting
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	It was meant to be once

**Author's Note:**

> I love reading Maribat stories and the Daminette prompt came up, so here we are. I was tempted to write something... This came up. I don't think I'm gonna follow through the whole challenge though .  
> This is my first fanfic in English with no beta after two years of not writing not even in Spanish... God It's been a while.  
> I can take critiques but please don't be mean.  
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> It's mostly just the begining of their acquaintance.  
> There  
> Out of my system already

There was a certain peacefulness that came with the knowledge that no matter how she fucked up in practice, there was no world ending catastrophe waiting to fall. All the adrenaline went into her rapid movements, her practice sword an extension of her arm. Her mind was oh so clear. Little by little she was learning to avoid telegraphing her own moves, making her sword faster, deadlier. She could even sometimes read his following move.

It felt like dancing.

*

At first it was something that came by necessity. It all begun with LadyNoir and her incompetence to fight as well with Plagg as she did with Tikki, with Chat’s guidance. They made a point of training themselves after a short patrol, sometimes it was him running through stretches and katas, others her with a sabre or a rapier.

Later on, she asked Kagami as a way of bonding but keeping her mother’s approval and, after coming to terms with the end of her crush, Adrien too.

The three fit well together as a group after all of Lila’s lies divided her friends. Adrien opened his eyes a little too late maybe, but he did come through for her when it came to a tipping point. They had come so far that it didn’t even matter anymore.

With the fall of Hawkmoth, with the disappearance of Ladybug, fencing became her therapy when free running stopped being an option. She learned to love it almost as much as designing.

She may never be as good as her friends, but she tried to come as close as she could. Her passion had come later in life and as such she was behind in knowledge, but not in spirit.

Acrobatics and free running gave her a vantage point, gave her freedom in a way nothing ever did. Luka helped her learn how to meditate. How to keep her focus, how to rein her emotions and keep it together; but all the anger she retained hidden under a well-kept lid came flowing as she gave it an outlet with the movements of her sword. It was an art as much as it was a way to let her aggression go.

There were no more akumas to fight, no more Ladybug, no more Chat Noir, no more Hawkmoth, no more Mayura.

Adrien was freed from his father’s oppression but fell victim to the public’s criticism even after he was judged innocent by the court. The Gabriel Company was deemed to fall into an acquisition war but he came through after relocating to England and the help of, incredibly, his cousin. He had to leave his past to become his own person, even if it meant renouncing his ring.

Marinette was freed from her duty as protector of Paris but fell to a heavier duty as a Guardian to find imbalance and protect the Miraculous and the respective kwamis, to restore the order, to translate the Grimoire. So far she made little to no progress in restoring the order, so far behind in knowledge to begin teaching anyone. Potions though, those she could handle a little better.

Her own brand was growing little by little after the setback of having her first attempt trashed. She only took commissions, worked with a small number of select clients and had a selection of limited edition lines that went online every season with only her as a designer and no physical store or office so far.

The weight of all her decisions felt as a backpack that she carried through life. Someday maybe she could talk to someone about how close she was to failing everyone, to have the world end by her own hands, a memory that she should never carry but she did, just as she did Chat Blanc.

Paris held too much of her to ever stay, so she left. First to England to keep her kitty sane, then to China as a way to connect with her roots, Japan and Italy were short visits to Kagami’s family after she started college there and to visit her _Nona._ Her last stop was for Jagged and Luka’s concert in Gotham, the musician’s hometown. 

She attended the concert, strolled around the streets, deeply inspired by the gothic architecture. This place… Something pulled here. She wondered if it was the dooming atmosphere. Her gut told her this was it, her new place at least temporarily.

*

“What do you think?” Marinette asked Luka while sipping some coffee in a small café. 

“Of Gotham? Or your gut feeling?” He looked unperturbed, her wanderlust a common topic between both of them.

“Both. I mean, its weather isn’t the best, and the city is kinda dark but maybe that’s why it’s calling me”

“You said so yourself, you think something in it either needs you… or you need it. But if Jagged told me something about this place, it’s that Paris’ chaos reminded him of home. If you’re trying to leave Paris behind, maybe Gotham is not the best place to do so”.

“I know. But maybe I’m not so done with chaos…”, _or maybe I need it deep inside._ “I don’t need to settle for too long either. I can get a work visa for a couple months… not like anyone cares here, but I don’t have to commit and maybe I can understand this… urge”.

“It seems to me that you’re plenty decided already” He smiled radiantly. He always knew how to make her mind work through decisions. He really would have made a great psychologist if music wasn’t his world and more.

“Since you’re gonna be touring the States then we could meet each other more frequently then. It’s been a while since you left…”

*

With her decision made, everything fell into place after informing her parents and friends. They were more surprised on her settling at all than on the place itself. They only hoped she took care of herself, some more proactive in their ways of encouraging her to keep up with her training such as her mother, asking for her to but a taser to keep on her person at all times, or Kagami, sending a text with a place, an hour and a request to bring her fencing equipment.

_WanderingWoman: U coming to Gotham?_

_IceQueen: No. An acquaintance owed me a sword, I exchanged that for a training lesson for you?_

_WanderingWoman: Are you crazy?? A sword is eXpENsiVE!_

_IceQueen: He doesn’t even give lessons, but if he did they would be even more expensive than a sword._

_WanderingWoman: Who even is he?_

_IceQueen: Please, just go. For my sanity at the very least. I know you’re not rusty but I haven’t seen you in a while and I want someone to gauge if you’re ready to face a city filled with crime and villains._

_WanderingWoman: Such faith. Don’t worry, I’ll go. I’m just curious about what kind of great master can earn so much respect from you._

_IceQueen: Long story short, we dueled. I lost. He broke my favorite sabre being an asshole and I almost kill him. Sweet guy._

_WanderingWoman: You’ve been talking to Adrien too much. Well, no puns at least._

_IceQueen: I would never_

_WanderingWoman: I know. I’ll be there._

_IceQueen: Be punctual, Damian’s not fond of tardiness._

_WanderingWoman: Damian?_

_Wandering Woman: !!!!_

_WanderingWoman: I’VE OUTGROWN MY TEENAGE SELFFFFFFF! LET ME LIVE IT DOWNNNNN PLEASE!!!!_

_*_

Marinette arrived to a gym with wooden flooring, space enough for 12 simultaneous matches. There she found a man already training. She watched with rapt attention his every move. It was beautiful, precise. His steps were almost soundless. She stayed almost five minutes hypnotized.

He seemed to know she was there but made no movement to address her. “Hello? Damian?” She felt unsure of intruding but the time she was cited was creeping. “My name’s Marinette and…”

He continued practicing, the rhythm of his breathing unbothered. “Yeah, yeah, Dupain-Cheng, I know. Quit yammering and equip yourself. You’re punctual at the very least”

So she did, familiar with that no-nonsense attitude.

She didn’t even get to see his face so far nor hear his full name, but his voice was young and deep. He was tall and broad, but quick on his feet despite it.

Intrigued, she followed his orders, prepared to have her ass handled as considering that he was on a level above her friend and that was saying something.

*

_Swish_

_Clash_

_Avoid_

_Swish_

_Point_

There was surety to her steps, agility in every move. Her opponent was _good_ and she was suffering for it. She felt sore after two hours of practice, but the good kind of sore. “Just a little more” She mumbled, she felt herself improving her reaction time and technique.

Again and again she failed.

Her sword went flying and she fell to her backside. His moves faltered, assessing her. They both took their masks off, training finished.

Marinette finally could meet his gaze, all consuming. Toxic green eyes, he felt like Plagg did. Destructive aura all around him, even stronger than Adrien could hope to be; but also like Plagg, there was something beyond the pure destructiveness… control.

The Guardian in her felt that if the need ever rose, he was _the_ Black Cat. The True Black Cat to her True Ladybug soul. She kept all comment to herself, because even if tainted in some places, the world wasn’t in dire need of a fighting team anymore.

“Not complete garbage, but I don’t know what Tsurugi was talking about. Your basics are lacking, your speed and agility compensate your otherwise poor technique”, Damian’s voice was deep and cold, cutting where it hurt just like his sword. “Why should I waste my time on you?”

“I know I’m lacking, but I don’t plan to stay lacking”, she couldn’t say it didn’t rub her the wrong way but he was not wrong. She overcompensated, and that may be resourceful at the moment but she needed to improve. Creativity could never stay at one fixed point, staying stagnant was death, and what was her if not the embodiment of creation? “I know you can tell I’m no quitter”

“T-tt. Very well. Stand up. You look ridiculous laying on the ground”

Sore and all, she stood swiftly but he didn’t put the mask again, so she didn’t hurry to do so either.

“Same time the day after tomorrow, we’ll see if you still say the same” Damian was preparing to leave, small smirk on his lips.

“I thought this was a one-time deal…?”

“It was”

… _Then?_ She almost asked, but refrained to do so. He would take it as a challenge and pull the offer, she knew, so she just rolled with it. Marinette smiled big even if he wasn’t fully looking at her. “Okay, I’ll be here”.

*

*

Damian had met Tsurugi years ago, still a ball of pent up anger, trust issues and a superiority complex a mile long.

Tsurugi was not the typical heiress, all sharpness and no soft edges. Her bluntness was a breath of fresh air. And still he fucked up being a brat, because for all the training that she did, she never knew the feel of flesh on the other side of her blade. In his struggle to fit in a family with _the_ Batman he felt pissed with her, with the world, with himself. He now knew it was jealousy of being able to love the sword in an untainted way.

So he had a temper tantrum and with the excuse of a duel he pushed, and fought harder than appropriate for a spar. He didn’t hurt her beyond a sprained wrist, but he broke her sword. He felt good for all of one second before he realized he was being unfair with his second friend ever. He didn’t have spare friends if he pushed them away.

He didn’t apologize, still unable at that point in time, but he owed her. She understood without him saying anything somehow.

His father though, he was pissed.

*

As time passed by he forgot, communication with the girl sparse in nature and years went by with a weird friendship, meeting when she visited the States and sparing. She even became an Olympian and tried to push him to the sport claiming it was a waste of his talent not to… but he knew better. He knew how to kill. He had killed. His swords may not have taken a life in quite a while but he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t, and he didn’t want to bring that taint to a sport. Jon said he was being an idiot.

Tsurugi called just before patrol, asking for a favor in exchange of her old sword, awakening his curiosity. That was a debt from so long ago, but he would comply.

Apparently a friend of hers was moving to Gotham and she was worried, comprehensible considering Gotham’s rep. She wanted him to give her one class to assess her skill and to report to her if he believed up to par with the dangers in the city.

He researched her, normal run of the mill girl. Daughter of couple of bakers, valedictorian, designer, with a history of being bullied (That may be the root of learning self-defense and fencing?). Her background check came mostly clean, with only inconsistencies in her school records about an almost expulsion with no information whatsoever beyond that it concerned thievery but there were no police records. He knew there was a story there but also that Tsurugi was not friends with people with questionable morals, him being on the grey side though not to her knowledge. So he unraveled a story about a liar and adult negligence, gaslighting and abuse. 

Her picture showed a frail and childish girl. So far from what he imagined when the favor was asked that he couldn’t help but want to have it done and over. After all he only promised one class, and Tsurugi never asked for anything more, knowing his lack of patience.

Nothing more, just one class and done.

Then he met her and he was surprised even by himself.

He offered another class.

He offered his time so freely when he was busy with training, with college, with his night activities, with W.E. What the hell?

She had stunning blue eyes, and he thought himself accustomed to the color seeing it in all his family members, but they had a sparkle to them. Was it the fact that Gotham stole the shine to everything that he never met such brightness?

Nonetheless, Damian offered. Marinette accepted.

She was fast and agile if a little clumsy in her movements, but what surprised him the most was her analytical mind. He had little to no tells, that was a sure way to die on the field, but she was still able to read him sometimes.

For someone with such a short amount of training it was impressive.

And if that wasn’t enough, he pushed and pushed, trying to reach her breaking point in her patience. Tried to make her surrender, and admit she was done, but she never said so.

She was hit once, twice, trice. He lost count. He could hear her mutter “Again” over and over, and he knew after two grueling hours of running her through hell that she wasn’t going to give up as long as he didn’t stop attacking. He could keep going but it was pointless to keep testing her, so he took his mask off and rescheduled so he could polish her.

Until much later he didn’t realize that he never felt tainted sword fighting with her, even in a place destined to the sport, in full-fledged equipment, with a dull sabre. For all her brightness, she carried herself with heaviness.

For now though, he had to reorganize his schedule to include training time with her. Maybe he could even teach her other styles of fighting.

If safety was what worried Tsurugi, what better protection that learning from Robin, right?

Right.


End file.
